Assimilated Santa
by Coral
Summary: The Borg try and ruin Christmas...


Assimilated Santa  
  
By Coral  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Christmas isn't mine, the Borg aren't mine, Voyager isn't mine. But my idea is half-mine. (The other half was my sister.) I also wish I could lay claim to the lovely word 'deborgify' (try using that in an English GCSE exam!) but, although I've been using to for a while Diane Carey 'officialised' it in her novelisation of 'Equinox' Read it if you don't believe me!!  
  
Apologies to anyone looking for sense. And apologies for the requisite mistletoe!!  
  
Dedicated to JetCJr8 - yes, you lot are mad and fit for the looney bin. How lucky that we've got the Internet to keep us away from, um... normal (?) people.  
  
  
  
The Borg Cube bore down on the jolly old man. They had been trying to assimilate him for centuries. Finally, he was in their grasp...  
  
  
  
Naomi leapt out of bed and ran into her mum's room. She shook her awake, shouting, "It's Christmas, mummy! Wake up, It's Christmas! Can we open the presents now? Please!"  
Sam opened her eyes and looked groggily at the clock. She'd been having such a lovely dream and it was only - 2 o'clock!!!???  
"Go back to bed, Naomi. It's not six o'clock, it's only 2 in the morning, for heaven's sake!" Then she turned over and went back to sleep.  
Dejected, Naomi went back to her room and crept into bed, knowing as she did so that she would never be able to get to sleep. But soon, 'visions of sugar-plums danced' in her head, and she was well away, clutching her cuddly Flotter toy.  
  
At six o'clock sharp, Tom woke up and ran for the lounge where his stocking was, expecting lots of presents this year, because he'd been good. Well, there had been that incident with the water world, and one or two other things, but, all in all -   
He stopped dead as he saw an empty stocking. No! He hadn't been that bad had he? He hadn't even pinched one of B'Elanna's stockings this year, she'd lent him one. He fell to his knees in despair, clutching the empty stocking. "No! Santa! Come back!" he wailed. "Come back! I was good this year, I promise I was!" The wailing subsided and Paris rocked back and forth whimpering, "Oh please come back, please, come back, come back..."  
  
All over the ship, similar scenes were playing out. Naomi was crying in her mum's bed, Harry had gone back to sleep, unable to face the rest of the crew, and even Seven was mildly disappointed.  
In Chakotay's quarters, Janeway was crying her eyes out in his arms, wondering what had brought this tragedy upon Voyager. "What if it's all my fault, Chakotay? What if it's something I've done -" and she started crying again.  
"Shhhh, Kathryn, perhaps he's just late. Maybe he can't find us at the moment - we are quite far off the course she sent him with your subspace letter. He'll be here soon." He handed her a tissue and she sat up and blew her nose.  
"That's possible," she said, brightening. "Thank you so much, Chakotay!" And she gave him another hug before leaving his quarters with a renewed spring in her step.  
  
Harry turned over in bed as he heard his Captain's voice announce, "Captain Janeway to all hands. Merry Christmas! I know that you are all upset with your empty stockings, but Comdr. Chakotay and I are hopeful that Father Christmas is merely lost, as we aren't on our projected course. I am sure he will be here before tomorrow. Once again, Merry Christmas." And she signed off, leaving only the piped Christmas music to annoy Harry. Well, it seemed like no one else had presents either. Maybe he'd better get up to the bridge.  
  
"Captain! It's the Borg!" Commander Chakotay called from the other side of the bridge.  
"Didn't anyone tell them it was Christmas?" Kathryn asked no one in particular, throwing up her hands. "Red Alert."  
Instantly, the red alert lights started flashing, although the effect was rather spoiled by the green tinsel Paris had strung all over the bridge.  
"Onscreen," she ordered. Chakotay moved all the silver beads off the screen to show a picture of a Borg cube with tinsel draped all over it.  
"Is that tinsel really there?" asked Janeway suspiciously.  
"Yes, Captain, it is," Chakotay confirmed. Last year, Paris had programmed the screen to show everything with a set of reindeer antlers.  
"Hail them," Janeway snapped, still upset over the lack of presents. Harry Kim, who had just stumbled onto the bridge in his Christmas pajamas, complied.  
"I'm getting a response Captain," he yawned. A fat Borg Drone appeared on the screen. Janeway blinked and rubbed her eyes. She'd never seen a Borg Drone with a beard before.  
"I think I'm dreaming," said Harry dazedly.  
"Chakotay, correct me if I'm wrong, but... isn't that Father Christmas on the viewscreen??"  
"No!" Paris screamed, falling to his knees and crying again. He'd thought things were looking up when he managed to get B'Elanna under the mistletoe, but now they were rapidly going downhill again. "Father Christmas can't be... he can't... can't be... assimilated!" And he howled.  
Chakotay moved over to Janeway and put a supportive arm around her.  
The Collective spoke. "We are the Borg. We have assimilated Drone Borgmas so that we can have presents everyday. Presents are relevant. Putting your stockings out is futile."  
At the Ops station, Harry had to stifle a sob. The Borg couldn't have assimilated Santa... could they?  
"We've got to rescue him," Janeway said, steely-eyed. "Everyone depends on Santa."  
  
  
Seven and Janeway crept towards the fat drone, glad that the Borg seemed too preoccupied with their wrapping paper and toys to pay any attention to the intruders. Tuvok and Harry were approaching from the other side. Ducking under some tinsel, the captain watched as Tuvok administered the contents of the hypospray to the Santa-drone.  
Seven tapped her communicator. "Seven to Voyager, Merry Christmas! Five to beam directly to sickbay."  
  
  
  
The Doctor shook his head in disbelief as a drone materialized in sickbay. Captain Janeway addressed him urgently. "Doctor, you've got to deborgify Father Christmas! Now!"  
"Father Christmas - " the Doctor began, confused and shocked.  
"It is a long story," Seven said, picking up the Doctor's deborgifier and waving it across Father Christmas.  
  
Virtually the entire crew was waiting in the corridor outside Sickbay to hear about Santa's condition. Finally the Captain emerged, a triumphant smile on her face.  
"He's going to be alright!" she cried, hugging the nearest person - Tuvok - in a rare show of emotion.  
"But Christmas is still ruined," Tom said glumly.  
"Don't be so stupid Paris," Chakotay said. "Father Christmas is magic. He can bend the timeline."  
"Tomorrow," Janeway continued, "when we wake up, it will be Christmas morning, and no one will remember today."  
Moments later, the corridor was near-deserted as the crew rushed to get into bed. Janeway eyed the only person left with an evil grin. "You're under the mistletoe, commander..."  
***********  
"I had a weird dream last night," Janeway said as she ripped the wrapping off her presents. "I dreamt that Santa was assimilated -" She gasped as she looked at her present.  
"What's up?" Chakotay asked.  
"It's an assimilated Santa..." she said wonderingly.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
